


That Hoary Old Chestnut 2: A Shared Motel Bed

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cheap Motels, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Massage, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, fic tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Hannibal have to share a motel bed because of fanfic reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Hoary Old Chestnut 2: A Shared Motel Bed

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first Hannigram fic I posted to my Tumblr, I believe, after @granpappy-winchester mentioned wanting shared-bed fic.

Will tried not to gape at the one queen-sized bed in the middle of the room in too obvious a manner, but of course Hannibal picked up on it.

“I can sleep in…this,” Hannibal finally said, gesturing halfheartedly at what passed for the budget motel’s idea of a lounge chair. “Or we could share the bed, like adults.”

Drops of sweat sprang out along Will’s brow like condensation on a can of cold soda in the summer heat. “Glad I didn’t get rid of the bangs,” was his first thought. His second: “If I’m already sweating now…” He didn’t even want to think the rest. He didn’t have to, because the image of him drowning Hannibal in a shared bed had already leaped unbidden into his mind’s eye. _He’ll know. He’ll know I am the Niagara Falls of night sweats._

“You should know not even my dogs like to sleep with me,” Will said. He aimed for a laugh but it came out a bit shaky. “I–-I toss and turn too much. One time I flailed and knocked Buster right off the bed. I could swear he still sometimes glares at me.”

“I promise not to glare at you in the morning,” Hannibal said, “and I’m such a sound sleeper I doubt I’ll even notice your nocturnal tossings.”

Heat flashed across Will’s face, and with it more beads of sweat. Something about that word. Nocturnal. It made things sound...illicit.  He tried laughing again and managed to make it sound a bit more robust. “Well, hopefully by tomorrow another room will open up,” he said.

“Yes,” Hannibal said. “Hopefully.”

*******

 _It was a bit of a lie_ , Hannibal thought. He wasn’t a sound sleeper, or even much of a sleeper at all. But if it put Will’s nervous mind at ease, it was really more of a comforting fiction than an outright lie.

Having taken the right side of the bed, he sat up and read while Will finished up in the shower. “He might come out in only a towel,” Hannibal mused, then dismissed the thought. Or, rather, tried to dismiss the thought, because the image of Will, skin flushed from the heat of the water, would not budge from his mind.

Moments later, Will emerged in boxers and undershirt. Hannibal gave him a quick look over, from the sopping curls atop his head to the dark hair still clinging to his damp legs. Hannibal tented his book over his lap, hiding his suddenly piqued interest.

“I feel… a bit under-dressed,” Will said. He nodded in Hannibal’s direction. “Your pajamas. Look nice. Heh.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal said. It took a surprising amount of self-control not to invite Will to touch the fabric. Or anything else.

*******

 _Well, this is good_ , Will thought as he slid into the left side of the bed. _If I’m still wet from the shower, maybe it’ll take him longer to notice I’m shvitzing like I’m  trapped in a sauna._

“You seem troubled,” Hannibal said beside him. “Are you thinking about the case?”

“Yes,” Will said. _Well, I am **now**_ , _at least._ “I’m waiting to hear from Beverly about some test results before the last piece of the puzzle can fall into place.” He stared up at the ceiling, tried to find nonsense patterns in the dated stucco to distract himself.

“Lying on your left side might tempt sleep to come more quickly,” Hannibal said. “The positioning helps the blood flow, as the muscle of the heart needn’t _pump_ as hard.”

Will felt hot again, even with the shower water evaporating off his skin. Why did certain words sound so… so meaningful… the way Dr. Lecter said them? _Because you have an overactive imagination_ , he told himself. _Your nervousness at potentially sweating over your therapist is bleeding and fuzzing into being nervous in other ways._

“If you’d like,” Hannibal began, “I could try to employ a spinal massage technique taught to me by a Duvini shaman. Hannibal sounded as cool and collected as Will was hot and messy. “It’s a form of acupressure, very effective at relieving tension and purported to bring pleasant dreams.”

“I’ll just try lying on my left side!” Will announced a _bit_ too loudly. “Goodnight!”

*****  

 _He knows you concocted that out of proverbial thin air_ , Hannibal thought. _Duvini?_ He’d once walked by a restaurant bearing that name in Salvador, Brazil, and it sprang to mind as something obscure-sounding enough that Will wouldn’t recognize the deception. _He’ll read you like a crime scene. He’ll know your design and you will know that he knows, every time he looks at you with his Atlantic-blue eyes._

But as Hannibal turned off the light and settled in to pretend to sleep, Will suddenly propped himself up on one elbow and said, “You know, maybe that acupressure thing wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“I’ll need full access to your spine,” Hannibal said, possibly a hair too quickly.

“Oh,” Will said. Agonizing moments ticked by and then, blessedly, he peeled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the foot of the bed. Enough light from the full moon seeped past the edges of the curtain to illuminate Will’s skin, and the delightful abundance of lengthy hair sprouting from his armpits like Spanish moss.

Further surprising Hannibal, Will stood up and pushed the waistband of his underwear just below his hips. If Hannibal hadn’t already believed in God, that hint of the milky white curve of Will’s buttocks and the shadowy cleft between would have made him devout. He committed it to memory, etched into his mind as if he were sculpting it from marble.

“On your belly,” Hannibal said.

Will obediently stretched out on the bed, resting his temple against his forearm. Hannibal was thankful Will had chosen to face the window. He wouldn't be able to see the slack-jawed, misty appreciation in Hannibal's expression.

“I’ll begin here,” Hannibal said, pressing his fingers against the lowest part of Will’s back, rubbing in small circles. There was a light dusting of hair there, quite short and fine, and he fought a strong urge to bury his face there. That would most definitely give the ruse away. “Is this having the desired effect?” he asked.

“Mmph oh _God_ ,” came the muffled reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

*****

When Will woke, sunlight was already streaming into the room. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He cast about in his memory for events of the previous evening. _Hannibal was massaging your back from your ass crack to your neck. You didn’t forget **that** , did you?_ He remembered feeling strong, nimble fingers working their way up his spine, alternately kneading and smoothing over tense muscles. He remembered… feeling… embarrassed over something. _Could it have been your budding hardon? Could **that** have been it? _He swatted away his inner voice like a buzzing fly.

He looked down at himself and saw that his shorts were still half down. “I guess I fell asleep,” he laughed. When he ran a hand through his hair, he was surprised to find it bone-dry without a drop of sweat. “I hope I at least thanked you before I nodded off.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Hannibal, who was awake and sitting up in bed as if he’d been in the same position all night. He looked exhausted. Sweat beaded his upper lip and brow.

The phone rang before Will had a chance to ask Hannibal if he was feeling all right. “This is the front desk,” a woman’s voice said when he answered. “I wanted to let you know we had an early departure, so if you want a room for your coworker it’s yours.”

“Oh, no, no thanks,” Will said without even thinking. “We’re fine. We’re just fine.”

Hannibal gave him an inquiring look. “Front desk just letting us know they don’t have a room for you tonight,” Will said. “She offered us free doughnuts for breakfast. I-–I turned her down.”

“Surely for the best,” Hannibal said with a dry laugh. If he could tell Will was lying, he gave no indication.

“You look tense,” Will said. “Did you not sleep well?”

“I didn’t sleep at all,” Hannibal said, rubbing his eyes. 

Will reached for his undershirt and pulled it on. _Nice change not having to shower at night and in the morning._ “Well, since we’re stuck together another night,” he began, “perhaps I could try that acupressure technique on _you_ tonight.”

Hannibal’s expression brightened at once. “Yes! Yes. That’s very thoughtful of you to offer, Will.”

“You’ll have to talk me through it,” Will said. “It might take me a few tries to get it right.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” Hannibal said, turning his book face-down over his lap.


End file.
